AN: Finally, the prompt appears: "I don't know what he's fixing, but mine just broke."

I think I'm the only idiot writer that takes a PWP lemon prompt like that and turns it into a novella... Thank you, though, to everyone reading. And the kind comments and messages. Really appreciate all of you who take the time. :)

Much love,

~Rose


Losing My Breath

Chapter 3

...

"Jealous." That was a word for him.

Monday, during the dark hours of morning, a client called with a priority request. Heero and his cybersecurity team found themselves working shifts around the clock. It took time to acquire specialty foreign intel, even with the former-Marine-turned-entrepreneur's connections.

Tuesday morning, Relena texted him - asking if he could take a look at her car. Heero responded that he was too busy. But, in between calls and emails, he started contemplating what might be wrong with her vehicle. And what could happen to her:

Relena could get stranded. Run off the road. The brakes could fail.

By late afternoon, he called in a quick favor from a friend.

"Peacemillion Auto. What can I do for ya?" A familiar voice answered above a buzzing sound. Something clanged! Heero winced.

"I could use a favor."

"Ha." Fingers snapped and the obnoxious background noise quieted. "See, you sound like this guy I know? A real pain in my ass."

Heero rubbed a hand over his forehead.

"But, I know you're not him, because he never asks for favors."

Heero rolled his eyes. "I'm asking, now," he said with a sigh.

"Well, ya know I owe you one." His friend's gravelly voice pitched lower. "Just don't tell me you need a kidney, or some shit. I like both of mine right where they are."

"Some friend."

"Hey! It's not a kidney, is it?"

"No, I need you to come by and check out my neighbor's car." Heero crossed one arm over his chest. His encrypted mail program dinged with a new message. He placed his phone down, set it on 'speaker' and turned most of his attention back to his work. "Think you can handle it?"

A loud chuckle sounded through the phone. "Gee, when ya ask for favors, you really go all out on the flattery. Don't ya?"

"Hn."

"Yeah, all right. I'll swing by tomorrow."

'Thanks.' The word stuck to his tongue and wouldn't come out.

"But feel privileged, cause I don't do house calls for just anyone, you know."

"Got it."

Heero refocused on the email. The dark web report on his new neighbor - a personal project he commissioned from his cyber analysts - amounted to just a few paragraphs.

"You're wel—"

Heero terminated the connection.

Current Employer: Zero-One Communications.
Current Position: Public Relations Analyst.
Marital Status: Single.
College: Weyridge University.
High School: Saint Gabriel Private Academy.
Middle School: Krushrenada Junior High.
Elementary: Catalonia Elementary.
Parents: (adopted) Twelv Darlian, deceased; (adopted) Marlene Darlian, living.
Adoption status: Closed.

'A mostly boring report.' He sent a note back to the analyst: "See what you can find out about the adoption."

Heero tapped on the edge of his laptop. 'I wonder how much she knows about it.'

He texted Relena later that evening: "A friend will stop by tomorrow to take a look at your car. After work."

A few minutes ticked by before his phone buzzed with a response: "Thank you!"

"You're welcome, Princess."

He ran a hand over his face and glanced at the time. Another twelve hour workday. Some days, it really sucked being 'the boss'. Heero closed his laptop; he needed to sleep, now, so he could be awake when Europe came back online - in a few hours.

The air in his apartment held a fresh chill. A faint, burning smell caught his attention as the furnace kicked on for the first time this season.

His cell phone vibrated. "Goodnight, Umbrella-boy."

Heero grumbled and texted back: "That's Prince Charming to you." He stood and stretched. The former Marine held the phone and made his way from the den to his bedroom - before flopping on the bed.

"Nope! You flunked out. No wonder you ended up a Marine." Her message ended with a winking emoji.

Hm. She should just come over so he could kiss that smirk off her face. And then do…other things. He sighed and pushed the thought from his head - for at least a good minute or two. "Thanks for making me dinner the other night. Make sure your door's locked."

Heero laid down in his bed. Flannel sheets felt soft against his skin - and held in heat during this time of the year. But the grey plaid appeared threadbare in places.

He plugged his phone in to charge and laid it on his nightstand. Sleep weighted his eyelids like a forty-five-pound rucksack.

His phone buzzed. Heero picked it up to read the message from his princess: "You're welcome. Couldn't let you starve. Good night, Heero."

He placed the phone down and settled into his pillow. A last thought marched with heavy legs through his brain: 'I should get nicer sheets if I'm going to invite a princess to….'


The next day:

Heero forced himself to put down his work and step away from his computer for a moment. He checked his watch and decided to go downstairs - to check in on Relena, her car and his 'buddy'.

Relena had mentioned having a friend of her own stop by. He'd caught a glimpse of her in the hall: a petite young woman with a short mop of dark brown hair and a spirited smile.

Heero didn't know what he intended to do. His friend, an old military buddy, was a mechanical wiz; opened his own shop when he got out of the Marine Corps. Specialized in muscle car restorations - or so Heero was told when his buddy showed up for a 'house call' on an ordinary Honda Civic ("with a sport package", his princess said).

The two were bound to get along. His friend more than capable of helping out. Relena just as capable of communicating the car's issues. Heero just wanted to...check in.

Her electric blue car sat in the mostly vacant parking lot on the back side of the apartment complex. A couple of bright work lights stationed on either end of the vehicle lit the area almost like broad daylight.

Heero took the rear stairs and exited behind the building. A long, rectangular overhang jutted out - spanning the distance from the apartment entrance to the parking lot.

At the end of the covered walk, two girls sat on the curb. Relena leaned back against a metal post holding up the overhang; her long legs covered in jeans that ended at the top of what women considered 'boots'. With heels. Sunglasses sat, perched on top of her head - no longer useful in the early night sky. She wore a light jacket and her hair pulled up into a ponytail.

Relena's friend sat a few feet away; a gas station coffee cup balanced on her leg. Heero made his way towards them, intending to do the civilized thing and talk to the girls. He drew up short at the sound of a giggle.

Relena's friend spoke: "I don't know what he's fixing, but mine just broke."

His princess laughed. "I can't believe he's shirtless in this weather. I mean, he's been really nice. I'm thankful he could help." Relena pulled the zipper on her jacket and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Heero's been so busy at work the past few days."

"Forget your neighbor! That can't be a good idea," the other girl said and pointed at Relena with the cup of coffee. "And seriously. That guy," she hooked a thumb at the ex-Marine wearing black jeans, combat boots and nothing else, "is a fine specimen of man." She sipped her coffee and shot Relena a wide grin.

His princess shook her head. "Hilde!"

"What? Look at him. Just look! At that perfectly sculpted musculature. I'm digging the black tactical jeans and combat boots. And that religious-death themed tattoo." She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows. Hilde looked like a little girl pleading with her mom to let her bring home a stray puppy.

Which, when talking about Duo Maxwell, was a fair comparison. If the puppy was a mongrel….

"I mean. I'm not complaining about the view. But, what's with the braid?" Relena shrugged her shoulders. "Isn't that odd for a Marine?"

"If you're not interested," Hilde trailed off. Her lips parted and formed something like an 'oh'.

Heero glanced up in time to see Duo pull his 'stretch and flex move'; the one he used to brag could charm any woman. Heero rolled his eyes, but had to admit - it did seem to have the desired effect on the two girls.

"What was I saying?" Hilde said with a sigh. "Oh. Yeah. If you're not interested in that guy? First, you should have your head examined. And second," she grinned beneath knitted eyebrows. "I'm going to remove the spark plugs in my car and see if he'll just take me home," she said with a wink.

"Hilde, you're terrible."

"Think it'll work?"

Relena shook her head and giggled. Grown women, giggling like school girls. Heero scowled. He did not invite Duo Maxwell over for Relena to ogle.

Heero strode past the two women. He stopped a few feet away from his 'buddy'. Duo bent over the front of Relena's car.

A solid chill hung in the air - with the faint scent of pine. The ex-Marine - the one who grew his hair into a two-foot-long braid after he got out of the Corps, because he 'hated all the haircuts' - worked at something in the front of the little Honda's engine compartment. A bit of grease stained one bicep. A large, black, cross tattoo covered the side of Duo's abdomen and ribcage; it read: "Death before dishonor."

"Oh! Hey!" Duo straightened up. And stretched. He threw a look over his shoulder at the girls. Heero seethed under his breath.

His 'friend' cringed. "You look like you haven't had enough coffee today. And you know my rule."

"I've had my coffee for the day. And I'm still going to be scary. And you'll talk to me anyway."

"Nope. Nuh-uh." Duo crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll talk to Relena. She's nice." He leaned forward and grinned. "And hot! Holy hell, how'd you get her as a neighbor?"

Heero glowered.

"Ohhhhh-ho!" His dark eyebrows knit together. For a late twenties ex-Marine, the guy still had plump cheeks, complete with a dimple when he grinned. "That's why you asked for a favor!"

"I was busy. She needed help."

"And what, you run a new handyman service for your apartment complex? Nope, not buying it." He moved his head to peer around Heero. "You want those delicious legs wrapped around you while she pants out your name."

"Stop looking at her."

"Annnnd, you just proved my point." He shrugged. "Her friend's pretty cute, though. I think I'll flex a few more times and then ask her to go have a drink with me." Violet eyes met his gaze; an irritating smirk settled on his lips.

"What's the deal with her car?"

Duo gestured with a socket wrench. "Needs a tune up. New timing belt, water pump. She's due." He lugged the battery out from under the hood and placed it on the ground. "For the moment, she needs a new battery. Brought one from my shop, just in case."

Heero crossed his arms and nodded.

"I'll install it, reset the radio and she'll be good to go. But, your girlfriend should still bring it by when she can - to get the other stuff done." He shrugged. "I'll do the work for her. Since she's your girl."

"Just give me the bill."

"Same old Heero." Duo leaned back against the driver's side door. "So, you two wanna grab a drink with me and the friend?"

"What makes you so sure her friend will say yes?"

"The same thing that makes me so sure you'll say no."

"Hn."

"I wish you would take me up on my offer. But, at least you're not so," Duo frowned and looked over at the girls, "alone anymore."

Heero shrugged and stared at the ground. "She suits me."

"Welp! They say there's someone for everyone," Duo said. He picked up the used battery and started towards his black-on-black Dodge Charger. "I just figured yours was like one of those old school nuns that used to rap my knuckles with a ruler - back when I was a kid." He ducked into the front seat and emerged a few seconds later with a new car battery.

"Those rulers stung like a sonofabitch!" He hefted the battery into the Civic's engine compartment. Duo stretched and flexed again.

"Tell me the truth, are they lookin'?" He glanced up at Heero with a wide grin.

"I think we should meet for one of our old sparring sessions."

"Yeah. No." The smile fell from Duo's features and he grazed a hand over his ribs. "I do not miss those. Buddy."


Heero couldn't hang around. Duo texted later to let him know the friend had indeed accepted his invite to drinks. The message ended with an emoji flipping Heero the bird.

The next message arrived with an image of a napkin; someone had written: "Being this awesome: Priceless. One 5-year car battery: $70."

'Same old Duo.'

Later that evening, Heero's phone buzzed again. This time, the message held a picture Duo must have taken while still at the apartment complex. The image depicted Relena, leaning back against one of the posts holding up the overhang.

Her blond hair had come down, out of the ponytail, and fell in loose waves over her shoulders.

A gentle smile on her lips, she stared at a point beyond the scope of the picture. The weak lights behind her combined with Duo's lowlight lens - captured her likeness with an ethereal glow.

An angel wearing a hoodie and jeans.

Duo typed one line beneath the picture: "Ask her out."

Heero sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He stared up at his bedroom ceiling. Yeah, he should probably do that. Or maybe he shouldn't.

He groaned. Part of him had hoped his princess would stay overnight after cooking him dinner. But, the message in their playful banter was clear - Relena wasn't going to invite herself in and take up residence in his life. She would make him work for it. For her.

...

"Wouldn't a woman cooking dinner for a man in his apartment on a Friday night - seem like a girlfriend?"

She huffed. "Maybe. If the guy in question was a little less of a jerk."

...

But, as their relationship stood, he considered her 'safe'. Friendly. They worked out together twice a week, ran into each other on occasion; exchanged phone numbers "just in case". Random texts sent here and there.

Most of the time, she reached out to him during the long four days between Thursday's and Tuesday's workouts. Heero could admit - he wasn't being fair, if he was interested. And he'd be an absolute moron...

But, for now, she stayed a safe distance away. And, he needed safe. Relena remaining an 'almost-girlfriend' meant he wouldn't risk feeling things.

His cellphone lit on his nightstand; it vibrated against the surface. His princess texted: "Not sure if you're still up, but thanks. Your friend was really helpful."

Heero sighed. "You're welcome." He sent the message and placed his phone down.

That should be the end of it. He needed his early evening sleep - at least until his team finished the client's report.

Before he fully settled down, his phone buzzed again. Relena texted: "Did you eat something? I accidentally ordered too much pizza. I know you can get caught up at work and forget to eat."

Heero's lungs shoved the air out of his body with a sharp stab. He closed his eyes, drew in a breath and counted.

"I ate something." He texted his reply. It was somewhat true. A protein shake, an apple, and two peanut butter sandwiches technically qualified as food.

"You're still a lousy liar." Her message ended with an emoji sticking out its tongue. They didn't send emojis in the military. Such a weird addition to adult communication.

Another text arrived: "I'll leave the pizza in a ziplock bag next to your door. No judgement."

He clamped his eyes shut and waited for the pang of something he could no longer name to subside; it plucked at steel threads holding him together and reverberated through his system. He should have said 'thank you'; he should have just walked across the hall and banged on her door until she let him in - really let him in - to her life.

And then he should have kissed her.

But Marines never say die.

"That's how we get rats, Relena."